


Suggestions

by Banklin



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Dirty Talk, Drinking & Talking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6611569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banklin/pseuds/Banklin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the world doesn't end, Crowley and Aziraphale celebrate by drinking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suggestions

The harsh scent of alcohol lingered in the air of the bookstore, leaving an invisible trail to Aziraphale's back room. He had closed the store early today, partially so he could celebrate the world not going into Armageddon, and partially because he didn't want to sell any more of his collection. They had been in there for a couple hours now.

Crowley poured more wine into his glass. "What?"

"I said," the angel paused, attempting to remember, "what I said was, how many people have you seduced after all these years?"

Crowley grumbled into his drink and moved his shaken gaze to the corner of the room. "Why'd you want to know?"

"I was just pondering it. Surely it must be quite a lot, what with all the time that's passed."

Crowley scrunched his nose and stared at the ceiling. "Dunno. Too many t'count I s'pose." 

The angel snorted and poured himself another glass. "Humans. They are so easily swayed."  

"You're saying you wouldn't give in to my ways?" He leaned in just enough to make Aziraphale uncomfortable and hissed, "I can be _ssso persuasive_."

The angel looked ruffled, but gave a dismissive "Heh" and leaned back in his chair. "My dear boy, I know your tricks and I bet you I would never fall for them." He mused, "Even if I was sober, I know it wouldn't work."

Crowley grinned slyly and mumbled into his wine, "Who's tempting who?"

"All I'm saying is-"

"Oh, I know what you're saying. You are saying that you're betting me to try 'n' seduce you." He sat back. "But I won't do it drunk. Too messy."

Aziraphale looked caught off guard, he blinked. "Well that's not entirely what I meant, you know. I'm not saying you _should_ try, I'm just suggesting that if you did-"

"See? _Suggesting_."

A blush creeped across Aziraphale's face and his lips pursed. "I am an angel, Crowley. I do not give in to desires of the flesh."

"Rubbish."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Sure you are an angel, but come on. You and I have both been on this earth for six millennia and I bet it's changed you as much as it has me."

"Oh? And pray, how exactly has it changed you?"

"That's not important."

"Come now, what has-"

"The point is," Crowley blundered on, "is that I could have you right here and now. Begging for more. And all you'd have to do is agree to this wager."

He shifted. He had given into such desires before, but it had been a long time ago. Crowley had tried to tempt him before, but that had been a different time. "What," he started cautiously, "kind of wager is this, at any rate?"

"If I can seduce you, you have to keep any and all marks I leave on you until it fades naturally."

"And should you fail?"

Crowley shrugged. "I'll get a new book for your collection."

This caught his attention. If those were the stakes, he was certain he could hold out. And yet, a thought still needled his mind. "But, if you do succeed, don't you think I might fall?"

This hadn't occurred to Crowley before. He considered this. "Nah. After all that business in Tadfield, I don't think they are paying attention to us." He relaxed into this idea, and into sobriety. He smirked, offering his hand. "Ssso, what do you say?"

Aziraphale took one last moment of consideration. This was not how he expected the night to go. A spark of pride arose in him. He was certain he wouldn't give in. All he had to do was ignore Crowley's advances and that seems easy enough. If he is the one to break, would it honestly that bad? No one is watching. He shook his hand. "Only this once."

"Oh, I'll be gentle."

 _Pang_. The light blew out. _Thump_. Aziraphale stood up, alarmed. It was pitch black and he had no idea where Crowley was. He heard a low, and slow laugh that sounded as if it was moving around him. The kind of sinister laugh that one might hear shortly after walking into a snake's trap. Hot breath warmed the back of his neck and he nearly jumped.

A voice growled, " _What'sss wrong, angel?_ " It was Crowley, but it sounded different than what Aziraphale was used to. It was calm, collected, and commanding. He pulled himself together and turned around, expecting to see Crowley there. He wasn't.

He let out a nervous laugh and said "Very funny. Could you turn the lights on now, my dear?" He slowly moved forward, not entirely sure where he was going. He was met with a wall after only a few steps.

"Come now, where'sss the fun in that?" He hissed, letting his fangs graze the back of his neck. Aziraphale turned sharply and his eyes met the burning yellow eyes of his companion. He felt warm fingers grab his hands, and in what felt like a flash of movement, his wrists were on either side of his head being held against the wall. He inhaled sharply only to be greeted with the heat of Crowley's breath, inches away from his lips. He tightened his face sternly and adopted a mask of indifference, contrary to what he was actually feeling. He was nervous, but he fixed his eyes on the bridge of his captors nose.

 _Now that can't be right_. He thought, as he noticed how strange Crowley's eyes look. They were yellow as usual, but they almost looked clouded over. Crowley lowered to the angel's neck, letting his fangs brush against the tender skin, once again.

"You know," he murmured. "I've thought a lot about how to break you."

Aziraphale raised his chin in response. "Oh?" He tried to erase the shakiness from his voice, failing.

He grinned. "I could take you againssst one of your blesssed book ssshelvess. Make you ssscream my name." He slowly moved his hot tongue against the side of the angel's neck, delighting in the shiver he earned. " _Make you beg_." He whispered into his ear, biting the lobe. He slowly moved a thigh between the Angel's legs, feeling the tightness of his trousers, pushing his own hardness against his leg. He breathed. "Oh, angel. How far you've fallen."

Aziraphale tensed. He focused intently on ignoring Crowley's words, and any physical affect it had.

Crowley continued, "And what would they say to you giving yourself to me so easssily? To you, _sssubmitting_ to me." He bit his neck causing the the angel to let out a whimper, which he quickly tampered down.

He tensed up and tried to pull himself together. "I'm not giving myself to you, just-" he was cut off by a sudden realization of how close Crowley's lips were to his own. He swallowed. "Just, uh," 

"Having trouble concentrating?" He moved closer, letting their lips brush only for a moment. "Feeling vulnerable, perhaps?" The angel's lips were so soft, it was starting to drive him crazy. He breathed hot air in between them and they connected.

Aziraphale was surprised by the tenderness of the kiss but not for long, as a forked tongue flickered into his mouth. He felt the heat of their tongues mixing, making something in Aziraphale twitch with delight. He enjoyed this quite more than he expected. Quickly remembering himself, he pulled away and lifted his head as if to attempt to show how it hadn't fazed him.

Crowley growled and released the angel's hands, moving his own down and under the sweater in front of him. He moved a hand swiftly up to meet the golden curls on the angel's chest, and over to a breast. Then he knelt down to eye level with the bulge of his trousers, and with the other hand, pulled them down.

All this movement left the angel gasping. "I- that's just a reaction of this body. Not a, uh, it doesn't mean-" 

"What, _this_?" Crowley said, placing the free hand on the cloth of Aziraphale's underwear. Applying just the right amount of pressure to receive a soft moan, he grinned.

"Jusst, think." He said slowly, tugging at the top of his boxers. "All the things I could do for you. All the wonderful," He started removing them. "Sssinful," Another tug. "and enthralling things I could make you feel." They were off. He moved both hands on the exposed skin. His eyes met the angel's, inspecting the new haze that seemed to cloud them. At the very least he was interested, but not yet his. He gave a cruel smile, moving close to the warm and twitching member in front of him. He traced the underside to the tip with his tongue, careful to keep eye contact.

Aziraphale moved a hand to his mouth, determined not to let Crowley have the satisfaction of knowing exactly how much he enjoyed this. Though, the sticky liquid emerging from his tip probably gave him a good indication. He groaned and relaxed his hips, moving them ever so slightly into the warm tongue.

Crowley started to take him into his mouth, cautious to pace himself. The angel was thicker than he anticipated. He moved to about half way and started to curl his tongue around the shaft, when he felt an encouraging hand move to the back of his head. It was Aziraphale's hand, which once he realized where it went to, was quickly removed. He continued until he reached the base and began to move back, ever so slowly. The angel moved his gaze to the ceiling, attempting to sternly ignore how agonizingly slow Crowley was moving, and the more pressing thought of how fast he could be.

He carefully moved back and forth, tasting the angel. His claw-like fingers left neat little indents on the sides of Aziraphale's hips as he continued his methodical movements. Once he felt the angel's legs begin to tremble, he pulled away.

"Messsy, isn't it?" He hissed. Aziraphale looked down to see Crowley drag his finger up the base of the shaft, collecting cloudy white clumps, and slowly licking his fingers. He groaned with restraint.

Crowley stood up and their lips met again. As Aziraphale was just beginning to relax into the kiss, he felt a hand grasp his throat and move up to hold his jaw in place, pushing his head against the wall. Another hand slid around the base of his member, and began slowly and rhythmically moving.

Crowley broke the kiss, lip curling. Aziraphale was panting and desperately trying not to make a sound. He tightened the hand around the angel's perfect throat and growled into his ear, "I could tie you down and ravish you. I could make you feel the most divine rapture that you've ever experienced. I could make you moan and scream so loud the neighborss complain." He moved and bit the angel's lower lip. " _You just sssay the word_." 

"I-I" he stammered. He was quickly losing his grip on clean, unclouded thoughts. Crowley started moving slower, and harder. He groaned and moved slowly with the motion, starting not to care.

Crowley moved the hand on his throat to his chest and dug his nails in, softly biting at the base of the Angel's neck. It was all becoming too much to ignore. 

"Please." He felt Crowley smile and wait. The motion slowed to a stop and Aziraphale groaned.

"Pleassse what?" His hot breath tortured the now bruised neck.

He swallowed and attempted to persuade the hand around his member to move by pushing his hips against it. "Please keep going."

Crowley removed his hands from the angel and pushed his wrists against the wall again. "Did I tell you, you could move?" His expression was relaxed, but not forgiving.

"W-well, not reall-" he was cut off by a hand on his throat, slowly tightening. Surprisingly enough to the angel, he was loving this.

"Then sssay it. Beg me to take you." He smiled, softening his face. "That is, if you give in." His other hand lingered around the dripping member between them, painfully delicately stroking it.

He moaned softly. He could feel how badly his body wanted this, how badly _he_ wanted this. "P-please, oh g- oh somebody, Crowley, I need you."

This satisfied him. He once again removed his hands but this time he stood back. "Well it seems I've won." The light repaired itself and lit the room.

Aziraphale blinked. "Y-you _what?"_

"I seduced you. I win." He helped the angel pull up his trousers and patted him on the back. "Wasn't that fun?" 

" _Fun_." He said bitterly. He scanned the demon's face for any sign of a joke. "And, you aren't going to...?"

"I'm not going to what?" He pretended to be oblivious. He knew what Aziraphale wanted because it's what he also wanted. Normally he would continue but he felt differently about this time. Something like affection, and it bothered him.

The angel began looking around the room. It was the same room they started the night in, but it had a different feeling to it. For one, the chair Crowley was in had been pushed over. _Just how fast had he moved, anyway?_ There was a suit coat on the floor near where they were standing.

Crowley inspected the Angel while he had a moment of unnoticed freedom. His curly blond hair was tousled and and clung to his face. _Was he sweating?_ He had half-on trousers, half-on shirt, and plenty of bruises on the exposed skin. He was so damn angelic and it was driving him mad.

He noticed Crowley's gaze and met it with his own. He hadn't noticed before that the demon's shirt was half-open, or the bulge in his trousers. He also appeared to be missing his suit coat, and sunglasses. He took careful notice of the messy black hair, which had been perfectly combed when he first arrived. They both turned away.

There was a moment of embarrassed silence. Crowley was just deciding he should probably leave when he heard, "I have a bed, you know." 

He turned, surprised, and stared at the angel who was inspecting his nails.

"Just, oh I don't know, _suggesting_ -"

"Where is it?"

**Author's Note:**

> Considering doing another chapter of what happens next. Stay tuned!


End file.
